


Lessons

by pimpmypaws



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:18:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pimpmypaws/pseuds/pimpmypaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As much as McCoy appreciated being given a project, did it have to be this one? Someone in Starfleet had gotten the damned fool idea that a machine would make a better doctor than a human. aka McCoy contributes to the EMH program by teaching him to be grouchy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons

It isn’t a job he enjoys, but he’s getting to the point where he’s too old to do much of anything else. Shaky hands and all that. A surgeon’s no good if he’s always slipping and cutting the wrong things, but at least McCoy realizes it. He’d much rather sit in this chair in the darkened room than try to explain to a family why he accidentally killed their father. It may not be as satisfying, but at least they haven’t put him out to pasture completely. 

As much as McCoy appreciated being given a project, did it have to be this one? Someone in Starfleet had gotten the damned fool idea that a machine would make a better doctor than a human. McCoy didn’t care what they came up with to explain themselves, this holographic contraption he was helping with wouldn’t live up to real flesh and blood hands. But no amount of cursing and grumbling had gotten him out of contributing to the knowledge banks, so he’s now faced with the immense task of sitting and documenting everything he’s ever learned about medicine. Unsurprisingly, that turns out to be quite a lot. 

He’s considering the best way to describe the color of the rash caused by Ankaran flu (is it that shade of funny orange between the yellow and red parts of a peach?) when it hits him what the real problem is here. There’s a reason doctors have practical lessons. 

“Computer,” he says. “Activate the Holo-Doc.” 

He can’t help rolling his eyes at the name. It’s bad enough to have to work on this project, but did Zimmerman have to go and call it that? 

The air shimmers on the other side of the computer console and a balding man in a Starfleet medical uniform appears. McCoy stands and regards the holographic representation of the main programmer working on the project. 

“What is the reason for activation?” The hologram says. It isn’t looking at McCoy. It doesn’t seem to know where he is. 

“C’mere,” McCoy says. “I’ve got something to teach you.” 

The holographic doctor doesn’t move and McCoy grumbles a little as he sits back down. Damn thing doesn’t know how to walk yet. McCoy settles in his chair and leans over the console, resigning himself to doing this the new-fangled way. 

* 

“Please describe the medical emergency.” 

This time the hologram looks straight at McCoy, who nods at the improvement. 

“Good to see you’ve got eyes this time,” he says, motioning at the hologram to step forward. 

The Holo-Doc steps jerkily, like it’s just learning to walk, but it moves to McCoy’s side and stops. It repeats, “Please describe the medical emergency.” 

McCoy looks up at him, having to lean back slightly to look the hologram in the eyes. That fact alone is enough to annoy him. Sure, people get shorter as they age, but this is ridiculous. He knows for a fact that Spock is out there proudly standing at his original height, not bent nearly in half. 

“There’s no medical emergency,” McCoy explains. “My job is to teach you and we’re going to do this the old-fashioned way.” 

He pulls a model towards them, placing it top of the console between them. It’s a fiberglass replica of a Tellarite, complete with nipples where you wouldn’t expect them to be. McCoy has always liked this model, liked being able to open up the chest and explain everything inside to students without putting an actual Tellarite through the indignity. 

The hologram leans over the model and appears to be listening closely as McCoy points at each organ. The Holo-Doc doesn’t pause at the second stomach or the single intestine, just watches silently. After a few minutes of talking, McCoy looks up at the holographic man. 

“How’s your memory?” He asks. “You’d better not just forget everything I tell you.” 

The hologram straightens and recites, “The Tellarite digestive system is designed primarily to process plant matter. The stomachs utilize bacteria to break down plants before they pass—“ 

“Good,” McCoy says, interrupting. He points back at the model. “What can you tell me about their hearts?” 

* 

The lessons are going well. McCoy almost starts to look forward to his hours spent with the holographic doctor, which is more than he can say for a lot of the real people he works with. Admittedly, he used to be a better student before McCoy started spending so much time with him. As the only person interacting with him one-on-one, the hologram was learning his personality from McCoy as well as medical knowledge. He was more attentive before he gained the ability to grumble. 

The Holo-Doc (really, he has to talk to someone about a better name) has been progressing so quickly that McCoy is now confident about using living subjects. He starts small, bringing animals that they can examine together, but it isn’t long before the hologram is ready to work with real people. McCoy never brings challenging cases. In fact, he brings the most textbook cases he can come up with. He’s become a constant around the campus medical center, always stopping in to see if there are any patients to show the hologram. He wants the hologram to learn not only the words, not just a list of symptoms, but a practical understanding of illness. It’s the way McCoy himself was taught and, if this new program is going to be representing the medical expertise of the Federation, it had better only have learned from the best. 

When McCoy activates the hologram one day and it greets him (after the new ‘Please state the nature of the medical emergency’) with ‘I’m a doctor, not a veterinarian’, he thinks maybe they should spend less time together. McCoy puts the cat down on the table and motions for the hologram to join him. 

“No,” McCoy says. “But you’re going to look at this infection anyway. It presents exactly the same in cats as it does in any other species.” 

McCoy doesn’t expect anything when their lessons are done, when every piece of his medical knowledge is stored safely in the Emergency Medical Hologram (and isn’t that new name a vast improvement). He only hopes that the hologram, and all of its identical counterparts, will go on to save many lives, learn many new things, and put many brash young captains in their place. 

* 

The world is a lonely place for a hologram who finds himself alone in Sickbay, unable to deactivate himself. Out here, there’s no new medical research to read, no important discoveries to learn about, nothing that he himself did not create. There is a crew that doesn’t recognize him as the sentient being that he is, but beyond his programmed need to treat their injuries, he feels no particular affinity for them. 

The Doctor stands in the middle of Sickbay, looking around at the darkened room. With a sigh, he heads for his office, the office of the deceased Chief Medical Officer the ship should have instead of him. He sits at the desk and surveys the clean surface. 

“Computer,” he says suddenly. “Transfer the EMH to Holodeck Three.” 

He blinks and when his eyes open again he’s standing in the empty holodeck. The grid stretches away from him, but it disappears when he commands the computer to run a little-used program of his. 

The black grid is replaced with a small room filled with complicated machinery, but he ignores his surroundings and focuses on the computer console in the center of the room. An ancient man is stooped over it, inspecting a familiar fiberglass model. 

If the Doctor had a heart, it surely would have skipped a beat at the sight of the man. Instead, the Doctor steps forward, easily taking his customary place beside the console. 

The old man looks up at him. “What can you tell me about Tellarites?”


End file.
